


The Prostration of Affected Affection

by Birdpeople (DeusExMachina)



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: And expressing intimacy and affection in different ways, Cuddling, Cute poetry okay, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2076588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeusExMachina/pseuds/Birdpeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus was always one for demonstrations of affection. Sometimes Alec would look up from what he was reading, sprawled on the couch, and find Magnus looking at him with the tenderest and most open of expressions. And where Alec would have cast his eyes down and denied the look, Magnus would often get up and pepper Alec with kisses; his nose, he cheeks, his hands, his eyelids, and even glancingly, impatiently, his lips; and tell Alec on no uncertain terms how much he loved him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prostration of Affected Affection

The moment Alec walked in the door, Magnus was on him. Gently pressing him back until the door clicked shut, his hands settled into Alec’s back pockets.

 

“Hey gorgeous,” Magnus said, burying his grin in Alec shoulder, nuzzling at his throat and just… holding him there.

 

“Hi,” Alec murmured, letting one hand settle at Magnus’ waist and the other drift up to card through his jetty hair, today devoid of gel. “Affectionate, much?”

 

Magnus pulled away, fixing Alec with a look of snooty affront and totally ruining it with his easy smile. “Am I not always the paragon of affection?”

 

“No, you’re right, you absolutely ooze affection,” Alec said quickly, giving him a kiss, nothing more than a press of lips against lips, as they were still smiling.

 

And it was true. Magnus was always one for demonstrations of affection. Sometimes Alec would look up from what he was reading, sprawled on the couch, and find Magnus looking at him with the tenderest and most open of expressions. And where Alec would have cast his eyes down and denied the look, Magnus would often get up and pepper Alec with kisses; his nose, he cheeks, his hands, his eyelids, and even glancingly, impatiently, his lips; and tell Alec on no uncertain terms how much he loved him.

 

And now, pressed against Magnus’ loft door in the warm, easy embrace of the man who meant the most to him, Alec called to mind words he had unwittingly memorized.

 

_Have me, hold me, I'll take no other._

_Bring me home to meet your mother._

_Bind your fingers in promise bands._

_Take me home to your native lands._

 

Magnus blinked up at him. “What’s that from, love?”

 

Alec shrugged. “Don’t remember.” A lie. “Jace is the one with a head for verse, that one just stuck with me.”

 

Magnus drew his hands out of Alec’s back pockets, lacing his fingers with his. “Well I think it’s beautiful,” he said softly.

 

“Thanks,” Alec averted his eyes. He had never been much of a poet, but this one idea had plagued him for days, until he had sat at his desk until late the night before with pen and paper, though the pen had served as much as something for him to set his teeth in as a stylus. He had finished, however.

 

He was not as demonstrative as Magnus. He lacked the dramatics and lack of self-consciousness that allowed the other to indulge in theatrics. But he did love Magnus. He just needed more time to hash out his words into something cohesive. Into the meaningful sentiment Magnus deserved.

 

Magnus understood. He had understood that about Alec for a long time. He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you like poetry? This was just a piece of an idea I had.
> 
> For more writing shenanigans, see my tumblr at quasi-birdpeople.tumblr.com


End file.
